The Phantom
by Gus Kinney The Prodigal Son
Summary: when does a thought become real when it is forced to be real how far does your mind take you lets see
1. mother

Gus Kinney: Hello there i have a new black butler story here now how i came up with this this i watched a movie and boom lol so i hope you give it a chance so here we go chapter So it begins.

A tense silence had fallen across the London Precinct while their dedicated commissioner flew off the handle after his case had been stolen, yet again, by none other than, Ciel Phantomhive. In-between his bouts of anger you could hear a pin drop. Nobody dared question or criticize him at this point, not unless they wished to be stuck in the office doing paperwork for the rest of the year. Arthur Randall would calm down eventually. Hopefully he would be distracted by some more, less high profile cases that the Queen wouldn't take an interest in.

The rest of London's finest were as in the dark as their fuming commissioner was about why the Queen had taken so much interest in the particular case, but at the same time they had almost expected her watchdog to come in and handle it. There was no point in complaining about something they couldn't chance. "Who the hell does he think he is? Just how long does he think he can keep this up? That brat isn't even qualified for this level of detective work!"

He paused and looked to Detective Abberline, who was rummaging through a filing cabinet for the rest of the case files. Abberlin started and quickly nodded, agreeing with his superior (despite having not been paying any attention). The newly promoted Detective was easily shaken by Randall's outbursts, and had yet grown to expect them. He hadn't known how to cope with them at first, and followed the rest of the equally frustrated herd. This was one of the times Abberline would have preferred fading into the background with the rest of them, but lately he couldn't catch a break.

There was a change in atmosphere when the front door opened, a burst of chilly air rushing in from the bustling street outside. Arthur paused in his ramblings and turned, half expecting to find Ciel's butler standing there. His eyes narrowed behind wire-framed glasses as he watched the intruder swagger in as if he owned the place. An air of confidence hung about him, but it clung to the border of arrogance, and often bounced back and forth between the two. As gentle as a kitten at times, then, when need be, that innocence melting away to reveal a cruel and merciless nature that lurked just beneath the surface. In the right light his hair was easily mistaken for a dingy crimson. The young man's open, burgundy coat billowed out behind him as he walked and a thin enveloped was nestled between the long fingers on his gloved left hand.

The officer in charge of watched the front desk scrambled to stop him from sauntering into the main bullpen, but it was a lost cause. Any orders for him to 'stop where he was' and 'come back' had fallen on deaf ears. By time the officer had stumbled into the back room, the young man had already found his target. He boldly walked up to the commissioner and forcefully requested a moment in private, mischief gleaming in gold eyes.

Randall straightened his waistcoat and motioned the taller man into his office, watching him with trained eyes. He didn't trust the youngster any farther than he could throw him, he reminded him too much of the Phantomhive boy. Then again, the young man didn't think to highly of Randall either, or Scotland Yard in general. Stories of corrupt officers were spreading amongst London's citizens, and one by one they were starting to lose their faith in the police as well.

The young man folded himself into the chair across from Randalls cluttered desk and eyed the dingy room with contempt. Dust floated through the air and visions of the place on fire floated through his head. But that's all they were, passing thoughts. He would never do something that reckless unless someone had provoked him into doing it. And even then he would deny it with his last breath. While he did have some issues with impulse control, he had never done something that bad. Knocking his mother's prized crystal vase off the table as a dare? Yes. Burn down the police station because it was a disorganized fire hazard? No. Although he did have a fondness for fire. All the swirling hues of orange and yellow were enough to put him into a trance.

The young man slid the envelope onto the desk and looked on as Randall examined the seal on the envelope, thinking he would be able to distinguish a coat of arms, only to find a skull embedded in the black wax. "What's this about?"

The man threw his hands up in surrender and he cooly explained, "Does it look like I've read it? I'm just the messenger, don't shoot me." Something about the almost velvet quality of his voice threw Randall to distrust him even more. He's just like that damned butler.

Randall's brow creased with frustration as he tore off the seal and skimmed the contents of the letter, his mouth settling in a hard line. "Who sent you?"His tone was clipped, and he barely managed to contain another bout of rage.

The young man looked around as if he might have been followed, then leaned forward in the creaky chair, dropping his voice to a low, almost hypnotic whisper. "That's classified."

"Classified!"

Taken aback at the outburst, the man leaned back a few micro inches and nodded. "It'd cause problems for them if I was to say. And like I said, I'm only the messenger. It's not my place."

Randall huffed and rose from his chair, splaying his hands on the desk while the stranger leaned back in the chair. The commissioner felt attacked and was lashing out, this letter combined with earlier events weren't helping him. However, the young stranger hid a smirk, having expected this sort of reaction from the beginning. He had done his homework before coming here. "It is when you have just threatened a police officer, do you wish to be arrested?"

Pretending to be interested, and he hadn't seen the letter himself, the young man tried stealing a glance at the thin sheet of parchment. "Why, what does it say?"

"As if you don't know! You're the one who wrote it!"

The young man slowly rose from his chair and mimicked Randall's pose, the only difference being the young man actually appeared menacing. His voice was calm when he spoke, and he maintained his control while Arthur allowed his rage to cloud his judgement. "Are you trying to slander my good name? Here I was thinking this was the safest place I could possible be in the city and yet it would appear I should have to suffer abuse at the hands of London's so-called finest as well. I'm ashamed for having made the mistake of thinking you better than the one-track bigoted minds that lurk just outside these doors. Perhaps this is why you have received such an upsetting document."

Randall fell silent while the man rose to his full height and drew his coat closed, silently threatening to leave. But the man's movements were slow and deliberate, he knew that their business wasn't quite done. He was going to give Randall ample time to recollect himself and say what needed to be said. Only then would he truly take his leave. Randall seated himself again while the man remained standing, and began, "Tell me…" Arthur paused, fishing for a name but the man wasn't going to give him one. His cousin would have gotten snippy with him if his 'beloved' police commissioner started to think he was the one who had sent him here. The last thing the man wanted was to spend a tense afternoon with his cousin until they ended up playing some overly meaningful game or started arguing in metaphors until his mother came in and chided them both for acting like children. In his defense, he was the more mature of the two. "What do you have to say about the performance of this department?"

Completely undermining his previous statement, or enhancing it depending on the person, he replied, "I have been away for quite some time. I've only been back from Germany about a month, but if anything remains the same I have no problem placing my trust in the hands of you and your men. Unless something has gone wrong in my absence." The young man paused and tipped his head to the side, "Why do you ask?"

Arthur was momentarily speechless, then his eyes narrowed and he commented, "you seem to have had a different opinion just a moment ago."

"I've never said that. I've only said what I've heard while in town. It's a shame the people have so little faith in you. Then again, I've heard the same being said about the Phantomhive boy… Ciel is it? It seems they don't know who they trust more, but they do seem to favor him since he has had many audience with the Queen herself. She's handpicked him to do her bidding."

Randall fell silent again. trying to organize his thoughts, but the man chose now to take his leave and put an end to the topic at hand. "If that will be all I must get going. I am a very busy man."

The young man had hardly taken two steps out the door when Randall's chair could be heard scraping across the wooden floor and he called after his visitor, "I won't be backing down! Tell them that!"

The young man waved off Randall's comment as if it had been an annoying fly, "Tell them yourself when they come. My job here is done."

Once Arthur was sure the man was out of earshot he tossed the nearest pile of papers to the floor and paced around his office. The precinct looked on as their Commissioner lost his composed yet again, and collectively wondered what the retreating figure had said to upset him so much.

The doors to Scotland Yard closed for the last time that morning, and the young man climbed into the waiting carriage. A dreary sigh escaped him as he sunk into the seat and the carriage began it's long journey back to the place he called home.

A woman clad in red sat across from him, and took a moment to silently regarded her son's almost smug smirk before asking, "how did it go?"

Her son shifted into a more comfortable position and replied, "as we planned. I told you it was going to be easy." He paused briefly and took in his mother's slight frown before adding, "don't worry."

"But I do worry. You're my precious child and I would do anything for you." He rolled his eyes and thought, but Ciel will always mean more. He didn't dare say that out loud, but they both knew it was true. If she had to chose between her son and Ceil, her son would be the one to find himself betrayed by his mother. "Vincent don't give me that. It's true."

Vincent forced out a small smile and replied, "yes mother dearest." He returned to staring out at the dreary landscape while his mother sighed. She tried sounding angry with him, but if anything she sounded tired. "Must you be so mean to me? You have me to thank for your brains." A small, more genuine smile crossed Vincent's face and his mother added, "I love you."

Having been through this exchange more times than he could count, Vincent tool a deep breath and his eyes flicked over to where his mother was sitting when he stated, "I love you too." Vincent moved to sit next to his mother and placed his head in her lap, more for her benefit than his. It didn't take much to make her happy in moments like this. When she started stroking his hair, and brushing it off of Vincent's face, that's when he knew he had done his job, for now at least.

Gus Kinney: chapter one is done now chapter two will have more trust me


	2. Death and deal

Gus Kinney: hello chapter 2 is called the death and deal

Vincent tore through the back streets of London, following the general direction he thought his mother had gone. Upon finding the house empty, confusion washed over him. She had been the one nagging him not to stay out so late with a killer on the loose, so why was she out roaming this late? Was she trying to get herself killed? He still couldn't make sense of it.

A crossroad loomed ahead of him and Vincent came to a stop. Puffs of smoke billowed around him with each ragged breath. Minuscule droplets of water drifted through the air, signalling an impending storm. There hadn't been a soul around for blocks, and the only distinct sound around was the rats shuffling around in the darkness. Try as he might, Vincent couldn't hear anything that gave him a sign for where to go next. Taking a shot in the dark, he took a left and headed further into the unknown.

He drew closer to an alleyway, and heard several voices, accompanied by a strange, and grating mechanical whirring. Vincent ducked into the shadows provided by a nearby building and slunk along the uneven brick wall. The voices grew louder, and easier to hear, but when Vincent peeked around the edge of the building he found himself unable to place most of them. For the time being, it was a good thing he didn't recognize Ciel and Sebastian standing there. He was more focused on his mother standing in front of them, next to a strange man. The man had long. bright red hair and unnaturally sharp teeth. With his current smirk, he much resembled the cat that ate the canary.

A metallic clattering broke the tense silence as Madam red dropped the dagger she had and sobbed, "I won't!"

The man's smile quickly disappeared and his stance changed as he lurched forward. Droplets of blood smeared on the sides of his face as his saw ripped its way through flesh and bone as if it was no more than a piece of paper.

Vincent fell back against the fall and covered his mouth with his hand as if it could erase the horrors he had just seen.

Silence rang through my ears as I fell to the ground. She's dead. My… mother is… A cold numbness spread through me while I hugged my knees to my chest. This isn't real… it can't be. Icy droplets of water soaking through my coat dragged me back to reality, if only for a moment, and I forced myself to stand on leaden feet. Everything was blurred, whether it was from the rain or shock it was too soon to tell.

Whatever direction I took seemed pointless. Why should I go home? Nobody was going to be there...well nobody I wanted to see. Maybe I hadn't been the fondest of my mother, but I wouldn't go so far as to say I hated her or ever wished harm to her. I would have liked it if she had paid a little more attention to me when I was home but other than that I felt she did her best. Maybe if I hadn't been so standoffish with her she wouldn't have…

Droplets of water flew out of my hair when I shook my head, and forced my thoughts elsewhere. This couldn't have possibly been my fault. I was home a whole hour before the time she set for me. She probably would have still would have left if I hadn't gone out at all. She always had these weird clubs she was in or secret parties that I wanted no part of. I never really thought much of her coming and goings until now. Normally if she told me not to do something she wouldn't go and do it herself. Nothing about this feels right. What was she doing?

Turning up the collar of my coat, I took a deep breath and wiped my face on the damp fabric. Even after reaching the center of the city there wasn't a soul around. With this 'Jack the Ripper' running around and the sudden rain I couldn't really be surprised, but it was still early. For me at least.

Was that what I saw? In all the reports Jack the Ripper had a surgical precision, I highly doubted they'd be carrying about something as destructive as that. It's just some strange coincidence. A long sigh escaped me as I slicked back my hair. I could practically hear Ciel telling me there was no such thing. For such a half-pint he certainly was a smart ass. He better be in bed by now. The only person allowed to lecture me is… "I hope you don't plan on tracking water all over my clean house."

I blinked a few times the peered into the darkness where Sebastian was standing. The door clicked shut behind me as I rested my weight against it, my eyes never leaving his. "Good evening to you to. I hope I didn't wake you."

His red eyes narrowed slightly as I dropped my soaked coat on the floor, and pulled off my muddy boots. "Did you have a nice walk?"

I caught a small smile on his face as I pulled off my wet shirt and took a step forward. "Quite nice." I could feel his eyes on me as I gathered my things and started towards the stairs. Each drop of water that fell onto the floor in my wake was a personal victory. "Is my mother back yet? She had the nerve to tell me to come home early, so I trust she did the same herself."

"She had not. The Madam seemed to have some very urgent business to attend to."

I rolled my eyes, trying not to think too much about the reality of the situation. This felt like some sort of sick game I had thrown myself into without wanting to play in the first place. What am I doing? It feels like he knows something. He probably wants me to play with him. "Pity, I'll have to give her an earful on the ride home. If you're done, I'm retiring for the evening."

Sebastian waited until I was earshot before walking away, probably to get a towel for all the water on the tiled floor. With a bit of luck, I made it too my room and fumbled around in the dim light for a few moments while I took off the rest of my wet clothes and laid them on a nearby chair to dry. I could almost hear my mother telling me I would get sick if I went to bed now, but it didn't seem to matter as I curled up underneath the blankets. Feeling gradually returned to my numb limbs, but as tired as I was sleep wouldn't come. When I closed my eyes all I could see was my mothers blood spraying everywhere and the sound…

My body shook uncontrollably and I buried my face in a pillow, longing to forget, even if it was just for a minute. It's not fair, what did I do to deserve this?

"Master Vincent get up! You have company and it's almost noon." I peeked out from underneath the blankets, only to be blinded by the light coming in through the open curtains and burying my face in the closest pillow. I could hear my heart beating in my chest and just wanted it all to stop. My head was throbbing and in the fleetingly brief moment of silence my ears were ringing. Why now? Who the hell is visiting me?

"Later."

Myra pulled back the covers and stood in front of me, thankfully blocking the harsh afternoon sun. "Now. What would your mother think? If you keep drinking like you did last night you're going to ruin your liver."

I groaned softly and placed a pillow over my head. "I'm already dying."

She pulled it off of me and smacked me with it, jarring my entire body. "You're not dying, you're hungover. You'll not get anything from me until you march your backside downstairs and deal with what needs to be dealt with."

Sighing I summoned the strength to stand. The spinning room quickly deterred me and I slumped to the floor. "I'll pass. It's quite nice down here."

I shivered at a sudden draft and Myra took a step back, folding her arms over her chest. "You're not going to get any better lying around. Now march."

Flopping sideways I closed my eyes again. "Why are you being so mean to me?"

"I'm not being mean, you're being stubborn. This isn't going to help anything. Now go out there and greet your guest while I make you some coffee."

Opening one eye, I peered up at her from my place on the floor and struggled to a sitting position again. "Can I have a sandwich too?"

"If you get off the floor you can have whatever you like." I reluctantly slipped my hand into hers and pulled myself up again, toddling along after her as I tried to keep my bearings in this spinning and duplicated world. I'm never drinking that much again, this is horrible. "Aren't you at least going to put a shirt on?"

I shook my head and followed her out on the hallway, relying on the wall to keep my balance. The frustratingly bright foyer sent pain spearing through my frontal lobe. For a brief moment, I thought I might have ended up blacking out.

The descent down the stairs felt like miles, and at the bottom I had to keep my back pressed against the banister. Squinting in the bright light, I managed, "what do you want?"

His eyes widened slightly, but he quickly recovered and pulled his hat off, dipping his head in greeting before speaking. With how much I had been following Ciel around the past couple weeks I'm surprised he hadn't figured out who I was then. Unless he mistook me for one of my mother's man servants. "On behalf of the department I offer my sincerest-

"Cut to the chase. I've gotten enough flowers from all the empty condolences from my mother's various friends to fill the sun room thrice over. Your words mean nothing to me."

Randall cleared his throat and redirected into what he needed to say. "I have been told that your presence is unaccounted for during the time of Madam Dur-

"Red."

"Madam Red's time of death and-

"I was out with some girls I met during a parted ways around eight, after all I wouldn't want to put them in harms way with this 'Jack the Ripper' running about. I wasn't ready to go home so I took a walk and came home around ten. But my cousin seemed to have a late night as well and you can't seriously be suspecting me in killing my own mother?"

There was a long silence that answered my question, but he still felt the need to try to lie to me. "Of course not, but we must leave no stone unturned. It's just protocol."

"This 'protocol' better not become a habit with you. I could find who killed her in half the time you could. Deductive skills seem to run in the family, and I've got my mother's brains." I took a step forward and looked down at him. "That is, if he doesn't come for you before I do."

Randall paled and he took a step back. He pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose and calmly explained, "I do not feel threatened by a man who hides behind words written on a piece of paper."

"Pity. After all, the pen is mightier than a sword and if you string enough words along together you can absolutely destroy someone."

"Is that a threat?"

I shrugged, taking another step forward. "I don't know, is it?"

Randall huffed, his face turning red from anger as he studied me. It's way to easy to ruffle his feathers. How the hell did he manage to get himself all the way up to commissioner? "I shall stop by if I have any further questions. Have a good day." He dipped his head again then turned sharply his heel. His footsteps echoed around the enclosed space, followed by the door opening and closing again before I was graced with silence again. If only I could do something about all this light now.

The stairs loomed behind me, and I decided against going back to my room. If I closed all the curtains the drawing room would have been dark enough. Nodding to myself, I wandered into one of the side rooms and flopped onto one of the couches. When was the phantom supposed to meet with him anyway? I rubbed my face with my hands, wondering how I was supposed to pull this off now. Nobody would have noticed if I didn't bother. Randall might have spent his days being overly paranoid but I was willing to accept that. It was obvious the man didn't like me. This was the only thing she's ever asked me to do. I feel like I owe her at least this.

"Vincent?" Myra dragged me out of my thoughts for time being as she brought a tray in for me. "There you are. Now don't drink the whole pot or you'll be bouncing off the walls all afternoon. And make sure you don't sleep the rest of the day away. Get your blood flowing."

I nodded weakly and momentarily picked my head up. "Thank you."

"I mean it. If I catch you sleeping some ice water will be the first thing you get from me."

I nodded again, struggling into a sitting position. "I will...later. When the sun isn't out."

She ruffled my hair on the way out and left me to nurse my headache in peace...for the time being at least. I guess I have no choice...I do have to get out of the house after all.

This was so much easier during the day. At least then I could see where I was going. After nearly slipping off yet another roof, I reached my destination, an wiggled the window open from the outside. The breaking was a lot easier than the sneaking around part. Unceremoniously toppling into the small room, I looked around. Everything here was just as disorganized as his office at the precinct.

The door was thrown open as I folded myself into Randall's desk chair and got settled. He looked from me to the open window a few times before asking the obvious, "Who are you?"

"Did that boy not deliver my note? I'm the Phantom, and I've come for you."

Randall took a step forward, before whipping my hood off. His face turned red again and he exclaimed, "I knew it was you!" I probably should have wearied the mask too...then again, it would have just wasted time.

"Congratulations, you've got me. Now I have something to ask, and keep your voice down. I'd really like to not give my position away."

He folded his arms over his chest and loomed over me, once again trying to be intimidating and failing. "Why in God's name would I do anything for you? You've threatened me and now you've broken into my home. I should arrest you."

"My mother wrote the note actually. My handwriting is crap. And this was her idea. But you aren't going to arrest me because, being a British aristocrat of a well bred family, i am above the law." His brow furrowed and I quickly added, "don't give me that! I could buy this entire building and fund you lot for the next twenty years if I wished. Which I don't. You have more holes in your structure than a siv."

Randall didn't even bother to deny it. He must have come to terms with it a long time ago. Right now it was just a matter of plugging up the holes, but he couldn't do it himself. I also wanted access to the police files Ciel hadn't taken to find who had killed my mother. If I had half the brains my mother thought I had this should have been a piece of cake. "I won't deny that, but why on earth would I accept your help? For all I know your reporting back to Phantomhive."

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "As if. We don't get along. Think of it as a sibling rivalry, oil and water and all that. He expects nothing from me so in return I give him nothing. It's a wonderful relationship and I hope he doesn't sit near me at the funeral. I might be tempted to hit him. I wouldn't be surprised if this whole thing is his fault. If he even shows up at all because-

I stopped myself short and forced out a small smile, "But I digress. It's me or waiting around for Ciel to take the rest of your cases." Noting his need to feel in control of things I added, "Maybe then the Queen will put him out of commission for good and Scotland Yard will be returned to it's former glory."

Randall watched as I stood, doing nothing to indicate his train of thought. I doubted he would actually say no, but other than rage it was hard to read him. "Fine. But I will not have you running around causing any more chaos in my city. Am I clear? You follow what I say. You are not a vigilante."

I nodded in agreement, trying to sound sincere when I replied, "Of course. I would never want to do something that would reflect badly on you. I simply want to find out what happened to my mother. Just keep in mind our meetings need to remain a secret."

"Of course."

Climbing onto the desk again, I perched on the windowsill and pulled my hood back up. "I'll be in touch." The light from the window gradually faded as I crept along the roofs again. Randall slamming his window shut officially ended our discussion. For now at least.

Gus Kinney: so here is chapter 2 i would like to here what you guys think so far


	3. Let the good times role

Gus Kinney:here name of the chapter let the good times role

A gentle breeze ruffled Vincent's cape from where he was perched atop a seemingly abandoned warehouse. He had been up there for quite some time, anticipating the arrivals for his latest case. However, after about an hour of sitting there with nothing to do but stare at the ocean, he was growing restless. He paced around the tin roof a few times in order to get the blood properly flowing to his legs again. Being in a crouch for so long war wreaking havoc on his muscles. If it had been any later in the year his limbs would have been numb from the cold, even with his insulated suit. This is taking forever. Where is everyone?

The Jack the Ripper hype still hadn't died down, so the streets weren't exactly teeming with activity. Vincent sighed to himself and took another walk along the roof. He hadn't thought to bring a watch, but decided if nobody was there in what he felt was five minutes, he'd just head home. Vincent really had no idea of knowing if, or when, these men were supposed to show up. The only real lead he had was the captain of the French Police informing him that one of their ships had docked earlier. One would think time would be of the essence, especially since smuggling was starting to be take seriously. That's was the only reason Vincent was here tonight.

Big Ben chimed ten times, announcing the changing of the hour to the sleepy city. As the final note faded away into the darkness, Vincent stood. He decided he had stayed long enough. If something happened after his departure he refused to take responsibility for it. In his head, he was doing them a favor. He hadn't signed up for all this extra work, he just wanted to find out who killed his mother so he could continue on with his life. More or less. Vincent wouldn't admit it, but he enjoyed seeing 'The Phantom' plastered across newspapers and hearing whispers about the masked vigilante even if nobody (aside from a select few) knew who he was. It fed his ego, and Vincent was more than happy to hear people whispering about him in the shadows.

Hushed voices caught his attention, and Vincent dropped back down into a crouch, hesitantly peering over the edge of the tin roof as a small group approached. The short man in back looked around nervously, being new to the whole operation. He still hadn't managed to get rid of the jitters associated with doing this sort of work. "Are you sure nobody's watching?"

The pair in front continued walking, the one on the right rolled his eyes while the other one replied, "'Course not. The cops are stumbling around in the dark still. Boss says so."

He nodded, trying not to seem as anxious as he was and find comfort in his superiors words. It was easier said than done, but he remained quiet after that. The warehouse door creaked open on rusty hinges and the small group entered. They took inventory of everything that had been illegally imported on their ship earlier. Once everything had been accounted for several times, and they went over what was going to happen from there they left as suddenly as they had come, going their separate ways until the time came to pick up all their crates.

Silence fell on the streets again and Vincent dropped down to the ground. He took more care with opening the rusty door and slipped into the dim building unseen. Crates of varying sized filled the small space He didn't dare open one of them, and avoided the ones marked 'fragile' all together. He had a bad habit of breaking things that shouldn't have been manhandled. He stood almost in the center of the large room and looked around, trying to get a lay of the land and make the place less accessible in case they went in for a bust, The blacked out windows were far too high up to serve and purpose, so Vincent disregarded them. Instead he paid more attention to the back door and the metal loading door.

Rummaging in his pockets, Vincent found what he was looking for, a think piece of metal, and broke it off in the lock, jamming it. For further measure he threw some of the scattered about debris in front of it, covering it halfway in junk. It was easy enough once done, but now he was on to his next task. It took several more tires than he would like to admit, but Vincent managed to lodge one of his knives in the mechanism that raised and lowered the door, leaving it a useless sheet of metal.

He smirked to himself and took one last lap of the warehouse, wondering just what was being smuggled. Judging by the size of the crates, Vincent assumed it was something menial like works of art or things of that nature that were always being sold on the black market. Despite being the head field agent he really had no idea why he was doing what he was doing. Vincent didn't really care, and he didn't want to go through the trouble of reading the police reports. They were dry and pages of nothing but terms he didn't understand and he didn't want to waste his time learning them when he was trying to learn Chinese instead. given the influx of Chinese Immigrants of late, he figured it could do him some good sine he got around. And he wouldn't mind a trip there once all the fighting stopped.

Vincent stepped out into the moonlight again, and took a deep breath of fresh air. He shivered as cold air rolled off the ocean, and resolved to head back to his room for the evening. In the morning he could visit the Police Station then head back to England and show up back at his house just in time for afternoon tea.

Vincent folded himself into the chair across from Randall, glancing at the clock before asking, "any leads?"

Randall closed the door back, and shut the blinds before taking his place across from Vincent. He took a moment to polish his glasses then slowly replaced them. "Yes actually. Are you free tonight?"

"No. I have a previous social engagement. I'd hate to disappoint." Vincent was particularly fond of the idea of having to play the role of grieving son, but at the same time, he enjoyed having the young women, and a few men, eating out of the palm of his hand. He was going to start taking the necessary steps to returning to a normal life. Aside from all this Phantom business. After all, he didn't plan on keeping this up forever. He just wanted to figure out who had killed his mother and bring them to justice so he could have some sense of closure. How hard could it possibly be to find a man with red hair and sharp teeth? The city was big, but it wasn't that big.

Ignoring Vincent's cheeky smirk, Randall leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk. He knew how flighty Vincent was. The young man had a habit of saying one thing and meaning something different. The same philosophy applied for his actions. Everything Vincent did contradicted something he had said or done He was a walking paradox. "Nevertheless, the warehouse you were watching last weekend proved to be the base of operations for another smuggling ring. We're going to have officers posted outside until they show up. That's when we'll take them down."

Vincent nodded thoughtfully. His trip to France hadn't been a complete bust and this was one of the few times the quarreling departments had managed to successfully work together. Namely because Vincent had the French Police Captain wrapped around his little finger. Whoever said flattery gets you nowhere obviously hadn't met Vincent. He was almost as bad as the Viscount Druitt. "Make sure they're in street clothes and actually out of sight. These guys aren't amateurs and...well most of your men are too hot in the ass when it comes to these sorts of things. Keep the puppies at home while the dogs do the real work."

He paused long enough to let Randall make some sort of comment if he wanted to, but when the older man said nothing he continued. "The back exit is still blocked if nothings been moved, the overhead door is rusted shut, but I broke the mechanism for good measure. The only way in and out are the windows and the front door. Keep that in mind. André will meet you at the docks with him."

The wooden chair scraped against the floor as Vincent stood. He redid a few buttons on the middle of his coat and added, "He likes to show up early. Maybe if you're lucky you can show up before he does."

Randall rolled his eyes and ignored Vincent's 'advice'. Only a small percentage of the things Vincent said with good intentions came out sounding like he was trying to be helpful. Just another thing to chalk up to his 'I do what I want attitude'. "Have fun at your party Vincent."

Vincent paused in the open doorway, trying to figure out if Randall was being sincere or not. "Thank you. Be safe old man. I don't think you want to pass the torch to Abberline yet."

After taking a moment to check the time, I adjusted the collar on my coat one last time and climbed out of the carriage. Just in time to be fashionably late. A select few people I spent time with would have had enough time to notice I wasn't there and others who lacked a certain fondness for me would have assumed I wasn't going to show up. In my defense I hadn't received the invitation until a few days ago. I hardly had enough time to get my jacket fixed. At least it gave me a chance to have a new outfit made.

I grabbed a white rose out of the vase in the hallway and tucked it into my breast pocket before entering the ballroom. A slow waltz was just beginning, but nobody seemed to be dancing yet. A space hadn't even been cleared in the center of the room. Perfect timing. "Vincent, welcome. I didn't think you'd show. I'm sorry to hear about your mother, she was a wonderful woman."

I turned towards where Baxter was standing. He was a small, feminine man, but he had bested me in nearly every sport we had played together. He was certainly a force to be reckoned with when he chose to be. He also wanted me to be one of his playthings. Our relationship was more out of convenience than anything else. We had shared a room at school and if it hadn't been for that, I didn't think we would have even bothered to acquaint ourselves. "Thank you. I suppose I'm going to be the only one wearing red now."

"It suits you." He paused and took a sip from glass before elbowing me. "Madeline is in the blue. She asked about you."

I smiled down at him and rested my arm on his head, "kindly piss off."

Baxter elbowed me in the ribs and danced just out of my reach. "I'm just helping a friend. Now if you'll excuse me, I have another friend to help."

After looking to a small group in the corner, I grabbed two glasses off a tray and made my way over to Madeline. Her friends spotted me first and fell silent. She turned, the light brown curls bouncing slightly and I dipped my head. "A little bird told me you needed a drink."

She smiled and took the glass from me. "I didn't think you would come!"

Her cheeks turned pink when I kissed her hand. "Nonsense. My mother always loved parties. She'd roll over in her grave if I didn't show up on her account."

One of her friends, Sarah if I recalled correctly, rested their hand on my arm and gently smiled up at me. "That's an honorable thing to do. I don't know what I'd do without my mother. We do everything together."

The third member, Annabelle, nodded in agreement, but didn't offer any input. She was the most humble out of the three. When Madeline wasn't around I much preferred her company to that of Sarah. She didn't try so hard to keep the attention focused on her. Especially when Sarah brought her sister along. "That reminds me, what do you think of all this phantom nonsense Vincent? To think the police have hired a vigilante to do their job. It's a shame really."

Annabelle brushed back some of her orange hair before carefully interjecting, "I don't think it's so bad. They aren't doing anything wrong."

I shrugged and glanced at the silent Madeline before replying, "it doesn't concern me one way or another. They're just some masked person running around trying to play hero. It isn't the first time someone has tried to do something like this, and it won't be the last. It'll all die out as soon as it started."

Madeline frowned next to me and explained, "I agree with Sarah. Maybe this is what the city needs. An impartial person to clean up everything. Although the Queen seems to think otherwise. I hear she's put your cousin in charge of catching him."

Sarah huffed in annoyance and placed her hands on her hips, chiding the others as if she was their mother. "You two have spent too much time with your head in the clouds. He's not some knight in shining armor." She quickly changed demeanor and turned, "has your cousin told you anything, Vincent?"

"I haven't seen him since the funeral actually. We weren't that close to begin with. So I doubt I'll be seeing him anytime soon."

Madeline took my half-empty glass from me and slipped her hand into mine as a different waltz started. "Dance with me."

Shots rang out from inside the warehouse as I approached. Glass shattered as a bullet pierced the glass, and large shards fell to the ground below. Just in time. The front door to the warehouse was thrown open and one of the smugglers came barreling out and slammed right into me. He fell back from the impact and stared up at me, reaching for his knife. Yanking him off the ground by the collar of his shirt, I slammed him against the wall and pinned his hands behind his back, thinking nothing of his pleas to let him go. André tore out of the darkness after him, only to stop short when seeing me and smiling. He glanced over my shoulder and into the warehouse where the rest of his men and Scotland Yard were dealing with the others. He handcuffed the man in front of me and shoved him back inside, closing the door back before stating in french, "It's about time you showed up. That man is insufferable. You're lucky I even bothered to show up. I should have left him on the boat."

"I'm quite happy you didn't. I am in your debt now. It looks like I have an excuse to come back sooner rather than later now."

He fell silent and took a step back as the door opened, and Abberline and several other officers emerged with handcuffed men. A few french officers trailed along behind them and the party was finally ended with Randall escorting out the leader. Him and André exchanged ruffled glares but didn't say anything. Randall chose to focus on me instead and asked, "I thought you weren't coming."

I shrugged. "I changed my mind. It looks like I showed up just in time." I gestured to the man being led away and smiled beneath my mask."

"He's quite hostile for an idiot. I know for a fact my men aren't the cause of my city's crime."

"He can't help it, he's old and his mind must be going."

André cracked a smile, but his enjoyment was short lived when Randall came back. He stood straighter and folded his arms over his chest, continuing on in English, "Thank you for the help. I am sure we can make some sort of arrangement in the future. After all, my people are quite impressed with this Phantom."

"I'm just happy that things went according to plan."

"I would be ecstatic if I didn't have to hear the word happy come out of either of your mouths for the rest of the night."

Randall fell silent and adjusted his glasses while André pouted and stated, "Don't be rude. Now you owe me twice."

"That number will go up in the near future, I assure you."

"Not too close I hope." He started following his men back to the station, taking with him a few of the men they had been looking for. Much to Randall's apparent delight we were the ones taking charge of the ring leader. "Safe travels."

Randall brushed past me, and left me standing there for a moment before I decided to follow. "Say, is it true my cousin's been tasked with unmasking me?"

He shrugged, slamming one of the carriage doors shut. "I wouldn't know. Where did you hear something like that."

"My previous social engagement."

"You can just say a party."

"That gets rid of the mystery surrounding it. And there are all sorts of parties. This was one of the interesting ones. Mostly."

He cleared his throat and steered me into the direction he wanted the conversation to go. "If that's the case, maybe you should lay low for awhile."

"Or, I can wait for my cousin to come over and we can argue in riddles like we always do and then I can lay low."

"Must you always wait until the last minute for everything"

I shrugged and started heading in the opposite direction. "It more fun that way. I like thinking on my feet."

"You're going to get yourself killed if you keep thinking like that."

Gus Kinney: i hope you like it


	4. On the other side

Gus Kinney: hello everyone here is the next chapter i call this one on the other side

Why did I bother coming here again? Ciel remained ever silent at his place across from me. Normally he'd get right to the point, but today he was drawing things out. He was more concerned with his cake than getting me out of his hair. Word had spread like wildfire about his search for The Phantom, and as such, my duties around the police station had become quite limited. From time to time I would receive a private commission from Randall. They were mostly things that dealt with that gray area of the law. I did the work, and the police couldn't take the fall for any illegal happenings. Of course, they weren't really going to arrest me for anything I had done. The way I saw it, he still owed me. However, I was grateful for the lighter work load. The late nights had begun to take their toll on me; I did like to sometimes pretend I enjoyed being awake before nine.

Weak sunlight streamed in through the large windows next to me. Idly wrapping strands of my hair around my index finger, I sighed to myself as yet more clouds rolled in to blot out the once blue sky. The morning had shown promise for a relaxing, sunny day, but now I wouldn't be surprised if it started raining. Why must I always be stuck out in the rain? Am I being punished for something? "Vincent."

Ciel's sharp tone dragged me out of my thoughts and back into the now. For the time being at least. "What?"

He peered at me over the rim of his cup, taking his time returning it to its saucer before asking, "What do you make of all of this?"

I leaned back in the chair, balancing it on two legs as I absentmindedly explained, "if the sky gets any darker we'll have another storm on our hands."

Ciel's visible eye narrowed slightly and he glared at me. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

Humming thoughtfully, I returned the chair to the floor and slumped forward. It was always fun to push Ciel's buttons. He enjoyed playing cat and mouse until the other party addressed the subject at hand. If he was in a particularly snippy mood he did the opposite and forced the information out of you by any means. Normally it took a quite a lot of provocation on my part to push him that far. "'This' used in such a vague context could refer to anything ranging from this wonderful little tea party to something as mundane as the weather. And I was just watching the clouds."

After taking a deep breath, he slowly restated his question. "This Phantom nonsense; you seem you seem to somehow keep up with these things more than I do."

"Perhaps if you were more active in your social obligations, you would. Mother always said the fastest way to get what you need to know is going to a party and talking to the prettiest girl or boy there." I flashed him and wide grin before adding, "Then again you can hardly do a proper Waltz. I lied. You are better off staying home."

Ciel propped his head up on his hand and poked disinterestedly at what remained of his cake, needing something to do other than think too hard about what I was telling him. "This is completely irrelevant to what I was asking."

I shrugged, tipping the chair back again. "I have nothing to say on the subject because it doesn't matter, in the long run at least, If the police hire a mercenary it's hardly any of my concern. What they do with their budget it's their business, There's a never ending stream of different opinions on the subject, go ask someone else."

He remained silent, the fork scraping against the plate with an obnoxious, grating sound. There was no way to be sure of how much he actually knew. But if he knew as much as me serving as the Phantom's mouthpiece, he might have been trying to see how loyal I was. Even then, just because I was doing something, it didn't matter if I didn't agree with what 'they' were doing. I wasn't exactly made of the strongest moral fibers. "Then why do you work for him… at least that's what I'm told." What else has he been 'told'?

"I'm out of school and, for the time being, I have nothing better to do. I do enjoy a good game as much as you, but I'd much prefer to play with people than wooden pieces on a board."

He halted he destructive fidgeting, irritation beginning to creep into his tone. "Who is he Vincent? You can make my job a lot easier."

The chair slammed onto the wooden floor and I leaned across the table. "Why would I want to do that? I don't like you, remember? Mother's not around to make sure we play nice anymore. Unless you need your butler to supervise you stuffing your face, then by all means," I waved my hand over the table, inviting him to say or do something other than sit there. I knew he wouldn't. I could beat him in a fight on any given day, we both knew that and unless Ciel had an out he wasn't about to challenge me to a physical fight. I wouldn't have minded giving him a black eye. Maybe then he wouldn't drag me all the way out here for such pointless things.

As if he had read my thoughts, he calmly replied, "You do realize you didn't have to come."

"No, I did. You would have shown up at my house otherwise, and I refuse to make tea for anyone other than myself." The chair scraped against the chair as I stood, filling the brief silence. "Now If you'll excuse me, I do have other things to do."

Ciel didn't say another word as I saw myself out. He just sat quietly and sipped his tea as if nothing had happened. I could feel his eye on me until the door had clicked shut behind me, the solid wood forming a barrier between us. He's up to something; I just don't know what.

The usual drink chatter filled the air, accompanied by glasses clinking together and celebratory, nonsensical chants. Dim lighting made it hard to tell apart most of the drunken patrons, but Vincent had been here long enough to know the man he was looking for wasn't here yet. Vincent sat alone in a table near the door. Not close enough enough for anyone walking to see him, but not far away enough for another group to come in a block his view. He nursed his watered down drink, wanting something to do with his hands, Vincent had almost forgotten what it felt like to be out drinking by himself. Normally he'd gather a small group of people from his house and they'd sneak away on a long weekend, or right after a big test, to the local pub.

Vincent ignored a pang of loneliness stabbing his chest, and tried to convince himself that he was better off doing this himself, repeating he was the only person in his group who wasn't a sloppy drunk and had enough sense to stop before they had reached their limit. I'm working. I don't need someone I spend time with knowing where I was tonight. Ciel hadn't spoken much to him since they had tea earlier in the week, but the less people who knew his whereabouts the better.

The minutes slowly ticked away as he idly sat, sipping watered down drinks and waiting for his intended target to enter. He had made sure to check the time and location several times before his departure, but there he was still sitting there almost half an hour after the designated meeting time, alone. He was debating whether or not he was going to call it quits when the door opened again, and he was graced with an unexpected, and all too familiar, presence.

At first he hadn't immediately recognized Sebastian. He hadn't ever seen him out of his typical butler uniform, nor had he expected to see him in a place like this. Vincent hadn't pegged Sebastian as the drinking type...or being social when he didn't have to. The man sent a chill up his spine on the warmest of days, and there was this strange sense of foreboding whenever he drew to near. Vincent wasn't the superstitious type, or one to think highly of the occult, but if he was, he might have figured out, or come close to, figuring out Sebastian's true nature.

Vincent slowly turned his back to the door and started tying his hair back. It was once in a blue moon when he actually did so; he figured it would make him less recognizable from behind. He was wrong.

Sebastian was on a quest of his own, and he didn't need Vincent knowing what it was. Upon seeing his master's relative his brow furrowed slightly. Between Finny accidentally knocking over one of the china cabinets, and Bardroy thinking a flame thrower was an appropriate kitchen utensil (yet again) Sebastian was running very short on patience. The last thing he wanted was Vincent running off and telling someone about what had happened, not that Vincent cared. He was still trying, and failing, to conceal his presence. "What are you doing here?"

Vincent slowly turned, propping his elbow up on the table to his his glass. "Hey Sebastian long time no see."

The butler frowned down at the man before him and didn't respond. Any desire to make small talk had evaporated when he had laid eyes on him.

Vincent took a small sip from his glass, and coughed as the amber liquid burned his throat before continuing. Not that there was much to say. "I didn't think you'd be spending your night off in a hole like this."

"I'm here for business, not pleasure."

"Never a dull moment with Ciel around, eh?" Vincent arched an eyebrow invitingly, but Sebastian didn't take the bait.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I really need a reason to be out on a night as nice as this."

Sebastian folded his arms over his chest, and Vincent shrunk back in his chair. "I'm meeting someone. Same as you. If you don't say anything to Ciel I might be… persuaded to forget this whole thing never happened."

"Is that a threat?"

"Far from it. I only threaten those who I could beat in a fight. It's a friendly suggestion as an acquaintance."

Sebastian glanced around, not lingering on any one person for too long. He still had time before he needed to make his move. "Don't these arrangements usually prove beneficial to me as well?"

"While I don't have this city as completely wired as you do, that doesn't mean I don't have eyes here and there. I am my mother's son."

Vincent's attempt at subtle intimidation went unnoticed. He wasn't nearly as convincing as he thought he was. "I'll pass."

Latching on to the butler's sleeve, Vincent held him in place for the time being. "Wait, please. Don't say anything. I'm not working for them, okay? Ciel doesn't need to know."

Sebastian didn't have the slightest intention of informing his master of this little encounter in the first place. He got a large amount of pleasure from watching the little brat struggle with coming up with answers himself. Even if Vincent hadn't asked, it wouldn't change his mind, but now he was entitled to a favor from him. After a long pause, Sebastian concluded, "You owe me."

Vincent eagerly nodded, and released Sebastian's sleeve before the taller man could change his mind. Sebastian went to charm the bartender, since they tended to be the eyes and ears of any location, leaving Vincent to return to his wallowing (not that he would admit it).

After draining the contents of his glass, Vincent decided to move his operations outside. The fresh air would do him some good and he would have the opportunity to corner his target without too many witnesses. Vincent hadn't intended on doing anything illegal, but he didn't want word to spread too far that he was in 'contact' with the city's masked vigilante.

Vincent found himself lingering on Ciel's brightly lit porch, finding any and every excuse to show up a few seconds later to his cousin's dinner party. He had done everything from straightening his collar to reciting the German alphabet, multiple times. There wasn't much left to keep him mentally occupied besides taking a walk through the front green, but it was dark, and he didn't know what was lurking in the woods out here,

As Vincent swallowed his resolve, the front door opened and the newest edition to the Phantomhive staff poked his head outside. He shivered in the cold air, but opened the door wider upon seeing Vincent standing there, and motioned him inside with a well rehearsed, "Welcome." The snake on his shoulder hissed softly, then he continued, "We've been waiting for you: says Emily,"

"Thank you, I hope I'm not too late." He stepped around the scrawny boy and glanced around the empty foyer. The rush of cold air behind him stilled. Voices drifted down the hallway, but after being distorted by the thick walls, the droning was too muddled to be pick out individual voices.

The snake mostly hidden in the boys tail coat hissed again before he spoke. "No, we haven't even started yet. Everyone is still in the drawing room: says Emily."

"I can find my way from here."

After a few moments, Snake dipped his head and returned to setting the table, leaving Vincent to linger in the empty room until he felt it necessary to make his presence known. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room ticked off the seconds with each swing of its large pendulum. He was just in time to be fashionably late, so after straightening his jacket one final time, he made his way down the hall to where his cousin had decided to receive everyone.

Several of the higher ups from Scotland Yard (including Arthur) were gathered off to the side. For the sake of appearances, they ignored each other, not that there was really anything to say anyway. They still had their mostly secret meetings. To get a few work related things out of the way in one go, Ciel had invited several of his trading partners. Lau was also sitting with his sister, a necessary and unnecessary addition to the festivities. Elizabeth was also in attendance and she had managed to 'convince' Ciel to let her invite some of her friends. It was that, or she got to pick Ciel's outfit, and he had had enough of frills to last him a lifetime.

Elizabeth noticed Vincent before Ciel had, considering he seemed to be in a fairly heated discussion about the direction his latest branch was going, and excused herself from her small group to greet him.

Vincent smiled as she approached, ready to get on every one of Ciel's nerves before he even said hello. He made a point to be extra humble and charming with Lizzy. His intentions could be perceived as flirtatious, but seeing she only had eyes for Ciel, his attempts were wasted on her. He knew that, but Ciel was very protective of his finance and as such, he didn't like the idea of Vincent doing anything that could hold her attention for more than a few minutes.

Elizabeth clasped her hands together in excitement, chattering away a mile a minute, barely stopping to breathe. "...I'm so happy you came! You look quite well."

Vincent held her gaze and brought one of her smaller hands to his lips before calmly replying, "Of course I came. I would never pass up an opportunity to lay my eyes on something as beautiful as you."

Lizzy beamed and took a step back, doing a small twirl to show off her lacy, light pink dress. "Isn't it magnificent? Nina had it made for me." Her bright green eyes roamed over Vincent's tall frame, clad in tight black pants and a burgundy overcoat and pouted. For now she couldn't dress Ciel, so she was going to redirect her creative energy into Vincent (who never said no to her). "It would do you good if you went to see her as well Vincent. You're no better than Ciel, don't you have anything less gloomy in your closet."

Vincent chuckled and paused thoughtfully, "I wore white once."

Lizzy huffed and playfully smacked his arm, chiding, "That doesn't count! You only wore white because your mother didn't."

Vincent paused again, trying to seem lost in thought, when he had every intention of pacifying her. She always got what she wanted, one way or another. "Then pick a color, any color, and I shall put in a request."

Lizzy's eyes widened in excitement, and she tightly grasped his larger hands in her own as if she was expecting him to flee. "You mean it?!"

"Of course, would I lie to you?"

Her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to figure out what would best suit him. Eventually she came to settle on, "Purple."

Silently challenging her choice, he arched an eyebrow and tilted his chin up. Lizzy hummed to herself and nodded firmly, taking the flower from his coat before confirming, "it's what I want."

Ciel came up behind Lizzy and protectively draped an arm around her waist. "Look who finally decided to show up."

Vincent smirked, looking down on his shorter rival before asking, "why would I turn down an opportunity to spend time with my favorite cousin?"

Ciel frowned, his visible eye narrowing as he coaxed Lizzy back a few steps. "Given how stubborn you are, I've come to expect the least from you."

"You wouldn't have invited me if you knew I wasn't going to bother coming."

Ciel opened his mouth to respond, but Lizzy interjected before they could leap at each other's throats. "Ciel don't be mean. He's our guest. You must treat him with respect no matter how much you may dislike him." She paused for a fraction of a second before she blurted out something about meeting her friends and whisked away her disgruntled betrothed.

Vincent propped himself up against the wall and cast another glance around the room. There wasn't much to see, but he wasn't up for mingling. The only reason he came was because Ciel rarely invited him to one of his parties. He wanted to make sure he remembered why.

After slipping away from Lizzy's group, Ciel took a deep breath and made his way over to where Randall and his men were standing. Vincent waited a few moments for Ciel to redirect the conversation before joining them. As an unofficial informant, he felt his presence was needed. Vincent had a feeling this was a lot more than some business party. Ciel always had a reason for doing things, and it was no secret he held no fondness for London's finest. "Can you explain to me why you find it so important that you work with the very man I'm trying to catch?"

Creeping up behind his cousin, Vincent rested his arm on Ciel's shoulder and offered, "Who says it's a man?"

"Are you implying that I should be looking for a woman?"

Vincent shrugged, neither confirming or denying Ciel's suspicions. "I never said that. But women are quite driven these days."

"If you aren't going to help, leave. I don't have time to deal with your foolishness."

"I wouldn't be here if you didn't."

Ciel shoved Vincent back as few steps to put some distance between them. He could feel the blood vessels in his forehead tightening as he struggled to remain calm. Vincent knew exactly what he was doing and Ciel fell into his trap each time. The small boy huffed and sharply retorted, "You are obstructing direct orders from Her Majesty The Queen. If you really wish to continue down this path of self destruction who am I to stop you? I think it's high time someone else took your place as Police Commissioner anyway."

Light menacingly reflected off Randall's glasses as he adjusted them. Vincent wasn't the only one who had come prepared tonight. He wasn't going to let Ciel's brazen tactics weren't going to shake his nerves. Instead, he had every intention of redirecting Ciel's efforts onto Vincent. He had gotten himself into this mess, and he was the one who should have had to deal with it, not Randall. If anyone was going to lie through their teeth and sound convincing it was him. "I have never been in direct contact with them. They do what they want and Vincent reports back to me. If you have a problem with anyone here, it's him, not me."

Vincent rolled his eyes and cast a disinterested glance around the anxious faces of London's finest. He shifted his weight to one leg and folded his arms over his chest before launching his own defense. "I have nothing to say. The day I help him is the day I dig my own grave."

"I can have that arranged if you keep this up."

Feigning shock, Vincent gasped and asked, "why Ciel, is that a threat? Are you threatening my life in front of all these police officers."

"You can dig a grave prematurely."

Lizzy bounded over with her groups of friends, the bunch whispering and giggling amongst each other at a secret only they knew. Ciel pretended not to notice their approach, or Vincent clearing a path for them to come say hello. After some deliberation, Lizzy stepped forward, her eyes glittering as she tried her hand at playing up her cuteness. "What can you tell us about the phantom?"

Before Randall could make something up about it being classified information, Ciel turned to her and scoffed, "Why would you want to waste your time with something like that? He's a criminal who needs to be caught."

Lizzy's cheeks reddened as she frowned and wrapped her hands around Ciel's arm. "You're only saying that because the Queen said so!" Trying to further her cause, she then asked Vincent what he thought. Only he was even less help since he just said something vague and unassuming. "For now they aren't doing anything wrong, so I suppose I have nothing to say against them so long as other people don't try copying them. What's important is the people seem to finally be placing more of their trust in the police. Maybe now we can actually take steps towards making the city a safer place than before. That's what counts right?"

One of Lizzy's friends nodded in agreement and latched onto Vincent's arm. She giggled when he glanced down at her, a friendly smile on his lips as she spoke. "Vincent, you're so smart!"

"My mother was a doctor, I thank her for my brains."

Ciel tried to discreetly check the time and mumbled to himself. "or lack of."

Lizzy pouted, turning the full force of her steady gaze on his as she chided, "you shouldn't speak ill of the dead Ciel."

"What are they going to do? Come back and haunt me?"

Vincent leaned forward and dropped his voice to a menacing purr. "Maybe they already have. You do have an unfortunately long list of bad luck, wouldn't you think? Perhaps you're already cursed."

Ciel smirked, finding some amount of truth to his words. He had sold his soul to Sebastian after all; not that there was any way his cousin could have figured out. "Maybe you're right, Vincent."

Caught off guard by his cousin's almost sincere reaction, Vincent's eyes widened slightly, and he took a fraction of a step back. The door opened behind them, putting an end to the conversation. Sebastian bowed when Ciel turned to him and humbly announced, "Pardon the interruption, but dinner is served."

Gus Kinney: sorry it to long but hey its Christmas month so yeah


	5. A red dance

A red dance

Steam swirled out of the kettle in Vincent's hands as he poured scalding water into the large mug on the counter. Aside from Snake stopping in with the rest of the dishes, the large room stood still. A soft sigh of relief escaped Vincent as he spooned sugar into his cup. The metal spoon he dug out of a nearby drawer tinked off the ceramic sides as he dissolved the small granules in his drink. The rest of the guests had left hours ago, aside from Elizabeth, Lau and his 'sister'. The odd group was carrying on light conversation in the drawing room, for the time being at least. Ciel could only put up with so much of the Chinaman's nonsense. When Ciel finally decided to send him home, he'd only end up retiring for the evening, if he didn't end up falling asleep in his armchair.

After a surprisingly uneventful dinner, Vincent wanted nothing more than to return to his home. His limbs were weighted from the onset fatigue, and it would take a large amount of effort on his part to not fall asleep on the carriage ride home. The tea he had just made wouldn't help his situation either, but it gave him something to do beside sit there or wander around. Since his mother's passing, being home just didn't feel right to him. The house was empty and no amount of paid staff could fill the void; and it only felt worse at night. Vincent had never spent extended periods of time at home to begin with, his school was far away, and the trip home wasn't worth it when he ended up spending two days out of his holiday actually at home. This was probably the longest period of time he had spent in the city since his youth, and he was starting to get restless. Once everything with the Phantom blew over, Vincent had every intention to pick up and start travelling.

He tested his mostly cooled drink with the tip of his index finger before taking a hesitant sip. The warm liquid slid down his throat, soothing his frayed nerves and granted him with the illusion of new found energy. For the time being he didn't have a care in the world. It was just him and his sweetened beverage. Sebastian made his way down the hallway, but stopped short and frowned. I thought he would have left already, what's he still doing here? Sebastian took a moment to assess the situation, decided it couldn't be helped, and let himself into the kitchen.

Vincent glanced up, but didn't say anything to the aloof butler as he headed for the sink. He had taken care to clean up after himself, and didn't see any fault with staying there for a few more minutes. The pair sat in silence for several minutes before Sebastian finally asked, "What are you still doing here?"

A breathy sigh escaped Vincent and he set his mug to the side. He stared down at the tiled floor for several moments, then shrugged. "I don't really know myself."

Pots clattered into the sink a little louder than necessary as Sebastian started the water for the dishes, trying to mask his slight annoyance at the younger man's presence. The butler could sense the boys underlying melancholy, but couldn't entirely pin down the source, and he certainly wasn't going to ask. However, he made a mental note to keep a closer eye on his master's relative, who knew what Vincent could do if Ciel provoked him the right way. for all he knew Vincent might have tried to do something rash. "Tell me one thing."

In the silence that followed, Vincent poured himself another cup of tea and helped himself to the cookies that were stashed away in the cabinet behind his head. Once he was happily munching away he prompted Sebastian to continue. "Tell you what?"

"Why do you insist on continuing on with this charade if you aren't entirely invested in it?"

Vincent blinked a few times, getting caught off guard by Sebastian's bluntness. He wasn't entirely sure he knew what to make of him, let alone how much he could trust him. Sebastian might as well have been attached to Ciel at the hip, even when the butler wasn't in sight he was always close by. Even if Sebastian didn't seem as loyal to Ciel as one would expect, he didn't want to risk Sebastian running off and telling everything to his cousin. Ciel was already after Vincent with a vengeance, he didn't want to make things worse. Vincent decided to take advantage of him not being the brightest light bulb in the room and played dumb. "You're going to have to be a lot more specific than that. I'm tired and I do a lot of things I'm not entirely invested in. It's going to take too long for me to figure out which one you are specifically talking about. My memory isn't the best you know."

Sebastian couldn't remember a time Vincent had actually spent an extensive amount of time thinking about any one thing, but he kept his comment to himself. Out of all the headaches he had to deal with, Vincent hadn't even made the list. The butler would have preferred if he kept on moderately civil terms with Vincent. "Why are you still working for this Phantom character if you aren't loyal?"

Vincent hummed thoughtfully and took another cooking out of the tin. He replaced the lid on the small metal box and tipped his head back so he could put it back on the shelf. "I have to do something besides sit around."

"That's can't possible be all?"

Vincent shrugged, rubbing his neck. "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. You're guess is as good as mine. Hell, it's probably better than mine. Why do I have to have a reason?" He slid to the floor and rested his weight against the counter. He stretched the muscles in his shoulders and tried to formulate a more thorough response to Sebastian's loaded question. "I'm not exactly woven from the strongest moral fiber, much to my mother's dismay. I guess this is just my way of making up for what I didn't do when she was around. It'll blow over soon enough anyway, then I can leave and put this place behind." He couldn't remember the last time he wasn't a bit frustrated with everyone in a room knowing him, or having heard of him. Vincent had worn out the city, and thought it was high time he headed for greener pastures. Somewhere when he could attend a party and not have half the people there judging him for what he had heard or what his cousin had been doing lately.

Sebastian nodded slightly, satisfied with the answer and refocused on the task at hand. Vincent brought the now empty kettle over to the sink, along with his mug and spoon. He leaned against the counter and watched Sebastian as he worked. "If you ever get bored here, feel free to come work for me instead." He playfully elbowed Sebastian in the side and added, "Taking care of his royal grumpiness is bound to get frustrating."

The butler cracked a smile, and momentarily turned his back to Vincent to return a stack of plates to their designated cabinet. "I can't say his antics aren't tiresome, but I am obligated to follow his orders to a t until our contract comes to a close. I wouldn't be worth my salt if i just left while my services were still required." And expected.

Pulling away from the counter, Vincent ran his fingers through his hair. "You take this way too seriously. It's just a job and in a city like this, butlers are a dime a dozen."

"I doubt you would be able to find a butler of my caliber no matter how hard you tried."

Vincent chuckled while doing the buttons on his coat and nodded. "I can't say I disagree But if I were Ciel, I'd be a bit kinder to the ones who are supposed to be taking care of me. There's more than a shred of truth to the butler being the first person suspected when the master of the house dies unexpectedly."

Sebastian cracked a smile. His red-brown eyes caught Vincent making his way to the door as he started washing another dish. Vincent had no way of truly knowing there was some truth to his meaningless comment. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Sebastian wasn't going to be the one who ultimately caused Ciel's untimely death. However when the time came, Sebastian might as well have been a ghost himself. He'd disappear without a trace and in a matter of months it would have been like he was never there in the first place.

Vincent's fingers brushed against the polished wood as Sebastian wished him a polite, "Safe travels."

The almost sincere comment caught the boy off guard, but regardless of his uncertainty surrounding the mysterious butler, he nodded weakly, and thanks Sebastian. "Thank you good night."

Ciel hesitated in the hallway just outside the drawing room where the Queen sat waiting for him. The young boy took a moment to straighten himself out, before managing a realistic looking fake smile and entering the brightly lit room. Queen Victoria had already gotten comfortable at the table in the center of the room while waiting for her 'darling boy' to arrive. As expected, Ciel hadn't shown up so much as a minute late, but he still felt the need to apologize for having her wait on him. Ciel bowed, announcing his presence with a quiet, "Good afternoon, your Majesty. I hope I haven't kept you long."

A smile crossed her the Queen's weathered features and she assured Ciel that he hadn't, urging him to calm down. She motioned to the chair across from her, inviting Ciel to join her, and waited until the boy was seated before continuing. "Everything is going well, I trust?"

Ciel took a deep breath. Apprehension began pricking at the palms of his hands as he struggled to figure out how to properly word his response. Out of all the cases he had taken on as the Queen's Watchdog, this was by far the most infuriating. The Phantom had aptly named themselves because Ciel could hardly find anything about them. Nobody was talking, and even when they did, they didn't seem to know what was actually going on either. Vincent was the only person Ciel had come across who could help him, but when it came to Ciel, he was as stubborn as a mule. He'd sooner thrown himself under the car if it meant Ciel wouldn't get what he wanted. In the brief moments they had spent together, Ciel had never, not once asked his cousin for anything. Now, when it really counted, he couldn't have been bothered because of some pretty, deep seated rivalry with him. Ciel had never been particularly fond of his cousin, but if it came down to him having to help him with something as important as this, he would have done it eventually. Maybe not right away, but in the end he would do it.

In contrast to Ciel, Vincent had remained much more carefree when it came to how others perceived him. He may have show up to everything he was supposed to in order to keep up with appearances, but at the end of the day, Vincent didn't have the best of reputations. Being a figurehead for many very successful companies, dealing in various goods, and having been knighted by the Queen, Ciel didn't have the luxury of being able to do whatever he wanted at his leisure.

Ciel managed a weak smile, and took another deep breath before anxiously beginning, "I'd hate to disappoint, but-

He stopped short when the corners of the Queen's mouth drooped slightly, and took a small sip from the cup placed in front of him. It was only once in a blue moon when Ciel failed to successfully accomplish any cases he had been given, or do something to disappoint the his astounding track record for success, he feared she would be far too quick to replace him if he failed to live up to the incredibly high standards he had established for himself. When she spoke again, the Queen took on an almost patronizing tone, doing nothing to boost Ciel's confidence. "Don't be too hard on yourself, my boy. I should have known this would be a difficult case; even for you."

Ciel straightened in his chair, and quickly explained, "I just need more time, that's all."

The Queen smiled and reassured him. "I know just the thing that would help you. Since out masked vigilante had friends amongst our police, I shall keep some of my men posted outside of their building at all times."

Ciel's cheeks turned pink from embarrassment. He didn't want to inconvenience her by cutting her guard short. "Thank you, it's a kind offer, but it's really not-

"Nonsense, my boy. There's nothing wrong with needing a little help. Besides, it's already done and I won't take no for an answer."

Ciel reluctantly nodded, and thanked the Queen once again for her help. He silently prayed bringing this case to a close didn't take to long; he wanted to prove himself capable once again. As such, he stood abruptly and excused himself. "I'll take my leave now, it had been a pleasure. I assure you, this will all be over before you know it."

"I don't doubt that. I can always sleep easy when I know you are helping me look after my people and keeping them safe."

Ciel bowed again and silently made his way to the door. Once the solid oak had formed a barrier between him and his Queen, Sebastian made himself know from where he had been lurking in the shadows. A coy smile played at the corners of his lips as he asked, "Things went well, I trust?"

An irritated huff escaped the small boy as he led his butler through the castle. "As if you don't already know the answer to that." He folded his arms over his chest while stepping out into the sunlight once more, leaving his butler trailing along behind him A sharp edge crept onto his words as he firmly stated, "I have somewhere to go before we return home."

Sebastian already had an idea for where his master was taking him, but didn't question his decision as he climbed into the carriage behind him. His master was about to go on a quest for blood, and he wasn't going to stand in the way of that. If anything he would be able to get a good laugh out of it later. The small boy glared at the window, ensnared by his thoughts and waiting for the chance to tear into his cousin to set him straight once and for all.

The pounding on the door echoed around the empty foyer and dragged Vincent from the peaceful world of sleep. Acting upon instinct, he placed a pillow over his head and prayed whoever it was would leave him be and come back later. When the forceful knocking continued, he groaned and dragged himself off the couch in the drawing room.

He rolled his neck a few times, trying to work out a kink, and untangled himself from the blankets trailing along the floor behind him. The bright light in the entryway momentarily blinded him, and after a few moments of waiting for his eyes adjusted, he made his way to the door. Who the hell is coming by at this hour?

The disgruntled Vincent cracked open the door and caught of glimpse of his cousin. The smaller boy shoved the door open the rest of the way and invited himself in without casting so much as a sideways glance at his unexpected host. Ciel placed himself in the center of the spacious room, and waited until Vincent had closed the door back before continuing. A glimmer of excitement reflected in the depths of Sebastian's red-brown eyes as he anticipated his ruffled master's meltdown. It wasn't often he had the chance to see his young master this worked up, and he was going to take advantage of it.

Vincent stifled a yawn and worked his fingers through his tangled hair. He rested heavily against the door, lazily glaring at his cousin for having woken him from his nap. As of right now, he was fully prepared for whatever was about to be thrown at him. This was one of the few times he had hoped his cousin would lecture him just so he had a chance to wake up with minimal effort. He also didn't know why he would have bothered coming all the way out here, Ciel avoided Vincent like the plague when he could.

Much to Vincent's displeasure, Ciel had already worked out what he was going to say, and wasted no time getting right to the point. Vincent living so far away from the heart of the city had served some purpose today, otherwise who knew how long Ciel could have gone on for. "Where do you get off and making everything so difficult for those around you?"

A soft sigh escaped Vincent and he shuffled over to the stairs. His eyes hurt from the light and he wasn't about to invited Ciel somewhere else. He sprawled out across one of the steps, his narrow frame just barely fitting on the carpeted ledge. Vincent draped one of his arms over his face and half-heartedly explained, "you'd know if I was trying to make things difficult. If I was trying to be difficult he repeated I wouldn't have bothered opening the door, let alone get out of bed."

Ciel's face flushed with anger, and his shadow fell over Vincent as he glared down at the older boy. All his earlier anger resurfaced with a vengeance and he had no intentions of holding back, not this time. Not with his reputation on the line with no thanks to the man loafing around before him. "You know damn well I'm not talking about this."

After a moment's pause, Vincent peeked out from under his arm and sarcastically asked, "why don't you enlighten me? I'd love to hear how I have managed to inconvenience you this time."

Ciel folded his arms over his chest as Vincent closed his eyes again and began, "I expect nothing from you and you still manage to disappoint me."

Vincent snorted and cut his cousin short, "you must expect something from me then, try harder."

The younger boy took a deep breath, his voice shaking from anger as he continued. "You have said it yourself several times that you aren't invested in this whole charade, so swallow your damned pride and help me! This isn't some game, it's my life!"

If anyone here had swallowed their pride, it had been Ciel. While Vincent was surprised that his cousin was begging him, or as close as Ciel could come to begging, he refused to give in just because the younger boy had asked. This was his life too and he wasn't going to be a half-pint who acted high and mighty. This was beyond the usual hostility and stubbornness that was associated with their interactions. The sight of his cousin crawling to him because he couldn't figure this out wasn't enough for Vincent to turn himself in, not yet at least. Maybe if there had been a break in his mother's case lately he would have felt more compliant, but there hadn't been so he wasn't. And even then, it was a bit of a stretch.

After a moments pause, Vincent sat up and gazed up at his cousin, forcefully concluding, "That's why I can't help you. I'm not doing this for myself, so I refuse to give in just because you want me to. I refuse to. And if I hadn't been, this doesn't concern me. I don't give a damn whether or not you lose your title as the Queen's guard dog. It means nothing to me"

Ciel's anger overflowed, and he carelessly blurted, "What do you hope to accomplish by trying to impress a corpse? There isn't a damn thing you can do to change by trying to be a better person no! She is dead, move on."

"I could say the same thing to you. one reason that doesn't involve you having to 'maintain the prestige that comes with being a Phantomhive' that you do half the things you do. You can't honestly believe you're doing good for the city when you've destroyed more property and killed more innocent than anyone in the Yard has. I feel safer with all the hidden smugglers and drug dealers than have infiltrated London's finest, that with the child before me that bends over backwards when it comes to a woman who doesn't give a damn about you!"

"What I do, and what you are trying to do are two entirely different things!" There's more to a family name to think about. I have businesses to run and people who depend on me to-

Vincent slowly rose and towered over his cousin. He glared down at his cousin and spat, "No. People depended on your father, not you." Vincent refused to sit idly by while Ciel stood there badmouthing his mother. It had been one thing for Ciel to think lowly of him Vincent had grown to expect it by now and didn't think anything of it. But for Ciel to do the same thing for the woman who might as well have been his second mother was another thing. Given the opportunity she could go on for hours about her 'precious nephew', him saying that was a close to the slap in the face as Ciel could get. Did he have no boundaries? This… child before him couldn't possible have retreated so far into his shell that he felt nothing when he sat here and referred to what remained of his family as nothing more than pawns. No matter how distant they may have been, Vincent refused to be another one of Ciel's puppets. "As you like to remind everyone, you aren't you father, so, tell me Ciel, why are you trying so hard to be just like him?" Vincent slunk forwards until he was inches from Ciel and dropped his voice to a harsh whisper, threatening, "Of you don't be careful, someone might come for you in your sleep as well."

For a brief moment, Ciel's vision went red and he swung at Vincent, only to have the taller boy grab his hand and pin both of his arms behind his back. It had only been a matter of time before Ciel tried something, and Vincent had expected it, only not so soon. Normally Ciel was the one who kept most of his composure in situations like this. Vincent wrenched the boys twig-like arms upwards until he heard his cousin hiss in pain, and commented, "too slow, again."

"Get your hands off me."

"I'd say make me, but you can't."

Sebastian looked on as his master was subdued, a glimmer of amusement in the depths of his red-brown eyes. He didn't see Vincent as an immediate threat, especially after their little run in at the pub the other night. He wasn't going to intervene until his master inevitably ordered him to, and not one moment sooner.

Ciel weakly struggled in Vincent's arms, trying to free himself with little success. Vincent had a least half a foot on his cousin, and Ciel wasn't anywhere near throwing off his center of gravity. After a few moments of swearing and empty threats, Ciel finally caved and demanded Sebastian do something, much to the butler's displeasure.

Before Sebastian had to do anything, Vincent released Ciel and took a step away from the dazed boy. Ciel took a moment to straighten his coat before ending the argument on his own terms. "Mark my words, Vincent, one way or another you'll finally prove yourself useful."

Vincent rolled his eyes and followed his cousin to the door, making sure he slammed the door in his wake. He rubbed slow circles in his temples and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Most of his initial anger subsided, and after a deep breath, he peeled himself away from the wall. Silence echoed through the house as he shuffled about.

Sunlight struggled to pierce the closed blinds in one of the drawing rooms as Vincent slowly folded the blanket he had been using, and put the pillows back in their place. Before trudging back upstairs, he threw back the blinds, and let the natural light penetrate the room once again. Vincent dropped the blanket at the foot of his bed and made quick work of getting dressed. Before Ciel could try anything, he wanted to meet up with Randall and get this situation sorted out. He knew Ciel was good for his threat, and one way or another this would only end up coming back to bite him in the ass. He wasn't going to let Ciel screw this up for him too. Things were going to have to change, Vincent just wasn't sure how to go about it.

Several miles away in the city, Arthur Randall had already reached the same conclusion as Vincent. Not long after Ciel had left the palace, the Queen dispatched some of her men to stand guard outside Scotland Yard. They were to observe the comings and goings of anyone and report back to her if there happened to be any suspicious activity. She had also set up a routine patrol that would take place at night to ensure the Phantom couldn't sneak around the city unnoticed. If anything of interest was to happen, she would then relay the information to Ciel so he could take care of it . As a result, Randall had left the task of informing Vincent of the situation to Abberline.

The young detective had hardly taken three steps out of the front door when he spotted a bedraggled Vincent. Before Vincent could make it to the front steps, Abberline intercepted him, and ushered him off in the opposite direction. Vincent's earlier frustrations had yet to entirely fade, and being manhandled by Abberline wasn't going to do anything to help improve his mood. Abberline breathed a sigh of relief when the ancient brick building finally faded from sight, and he released the disgruntled Vincent. An irritated huff escaped the taller man and he straightened his coat. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Abberline glanced around the nearly empty street, half expecting to see one of the guards following him. "Sorry about that, Captain's orders."

Vincent glared at Abberline and folded his arms over his chest, waiting for an explanation for why he had been whisked away like a thief in the night. Abberline's apology hung in the air as he struggled to find the right words. "There's been an incident." He paused for a few moments before continuing, trying to gauge Vincent's reaction to the notion of bad news. "The Queen has sent her men to watch the station. in order to 'swiftly put an end to the phantom and his reign of terror'."

"So I'm a terrorist now?"

Vincent shifted his weight and Abberline took a step back, reluctantly nodding. "After some close deliberation, it has been decided that we have to cut ties with you. The department is under close enough scrutinization as is and we can't really afford to-

Vincent held up a hand to silence the rambling Abberline. "Spare me. I get it." He shrugged, trying to not put too much thought into what this meant for the time being. He had all afternoon to figure out his next plan of action. Being sent off on his own was the least of his worries. Since the police station was already being watched over, it left him with a lot of extra time for Ciel to focus his efforts on Vincent. "I can make my own way from here, it's not big deal. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened." Vincent sighed and laced his fingers together behind his head. "I just thought it'd take a lot longer than this. Thanks for the heads up."

He dropped his arms back to his sides and started heading back in the opposite direction. There wasn't anything left for him to do now besides run a few errands and head back home. Abberline hesitated and watched Vincent's back as he walked away. There was something about him that triggered something that can only be described as a parental instinct. the words didn't quite feel right in Abberline's mind, but they were the closest ones he could come up with. It was obvious Vincent was a capable young man, but Abberline still worried about him.

Abberline called out to Vincent, but he didn't stop. The taller man glanced back, prompting Abberline to blurt out, "Be careful out there. Don't get in too over your head."

Vincent rolled his eyes and waved off the concerned detective. "I can take care of myself. I'm not a child."

A hush fell across the ballroom when a Masked Man walked in. Elizabeth's party was supposed to have been a quiet affair, with only a few close friends, family, and a select few others who invited some of their friends. This was also a chance for Ciel to make steps towards mending the ties to a few people who he was constantly skipping out on when it came to parties. He assumed if he invited them to one of his, then it could make up for him not showing up at theirs. It had been Sebastian's idea, and since he was the one in charge of the guest list, he would have gotten his way either way; but it was easier to get Ciel to agree beforehand. In a way, having some business partners there brought him some relief. There wouldn't be as many opportunities for him to be dragged into a dance.

The man thought nothing of the sideways glances and hushed whispers. His red eyes roamed around the almost full ballroom, not lingering on any one person for too long. The man behind the mask had no real reason to be there other than to cause a scene, and put Ciel to a little test. Would the boy make a scene in front of all these people and deal with him now, or would he wait until for a better opportunity to present itself? Only time could tell and when he spotted Elizabeth standing off to the side with his mother, he assumed it would be later.`````````````

He dipped his head in greeting to several of the curious onlookers in passing. The man knew he was going to make a spectacle of himself, but this was a lot better than he could have imagined. Once it was all over, he wouldn't even have to deal with any potential backlash until he decided to put the mask back on. Having an alter ego did have it's perks.

Against her mother's wishes, Elizabeth separated from her, and melted the chilly atmosphere by bounding over to the tall stranger. She hesitated, before a cheery smile plastered itself across her face. "How do you do? I don't believe we've met before."

The man smiled behind the mask and bowed, his long cape billowing out behind him. He reached behind his back and produced a white rose, seemingly out of thin air, and presented it to his hostess.

A light flush coated her cheeks as he accepted the token. "Thank you, I do hope you enjoy yourself."

The man nodded, and slowly straightened to his full height, his eyes following Elizabeth's form as she returned to her mother's side, giddy from excitement. If Ciel had been in a better mood, she might have returned to his side and babbled on about how the Phantom had actually shown up to her party. Ever since his fight with Vincent, he had been on edge and particularly irritable. He was doing his best to remain patient with Lizzy, but she picked up on his snippyness and decided to leave him alone, for the time being at least. The Phantom making an appearance would only make things worse. The masked man couldn't say he didn't know this was going to happen, but it brought him a tiny bit of happiness knowing the boy was struggling to remain calm while he flaunted himself in front of his closest acquaintances and his soon to be wife.

Ciel was currently engaged in a discussion about foreign trade policies. For the time being, he was pretending not to notice the silent uproar surrounding the intruder. Several others had gone up to him and gathered around once Elizabeth had broken the ice and proved he was worthy of being talked to. A few of the young ladies, who sat around and fantasized about whisked away in the night by a man of their dreams, praised him for what he was doing to help. The more mature members of the group criticized the man for his 'blatant disregard for authority' and his 'reckless acts of vigilantism'. He received each comment with a slight nod, or quizzical tilt of the head to encourage further explanation, offering no form of verbal communication.

There was still a plethora of rumors about the Phantom floating around, and he had no intention of bringing closure to any of could speak louder than words, and in his eyes, now was one of those times. A ghost, there but not there, shrouded in mystery and cloaked in darkness.

A few of the more bold young women tried coaxing a dance out of the masked man, and none succeeded, earning polite head shakes and apologetic bows. They didn't take the rejection personally, they assumed it was because he couldn't dance. There was no way to be certain he had been brought up in polite society. The humble air around him seemed like more than enough proof. Nearly everyone in this room had strong distaste for someone or something in their surroundings. The man seemed more adaptable than most, taking what was dealt to him swiftly, and without hesitation.

The double door opened again and the masked man was nearly brought to his knees when a woman with flowing red hair and a matching dress entered. He staggered forward, overwhelmed with past memories and a sense a familiarity. The masked man bowed deeply and held his hand out to the woman in red. She smiled down at him, revealing her sharp teeth and curtsied before slipping her gloved hand into his, and allowing the taller man to lead her to the dance floor.

Young couples left ample space around the newcomers, as if they carried some sort of infectious disease. In the end, it ended up being a welcomed space. The unusual pair went through the motions of a normal waltz as if they had done it before. Their movements were timed perfectly, and carried with them the grace of a skilled ballerina. Whispers snaked around the room, mostly drowned out by the orchestra; not that the pair would allow something as trivial as gossip to mess up their unrehearsed routine.

The song came to a close, and the moment the pair straightened again, Sebastian intercepted the woman in red. "May I borrow you for a moment."

The woman's cat-like green eyes lit up with excitement. Before following the more formally dressed butler, she winked at the masked man, and thanked him for the dance. Little did he know, that this wasn't the last time he would cross paths with the mysterious woman.

Gus Kinney: hello everyone that was some time lol and i hope you still like the story and i will see you all next time


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